


Aphelion

by orphan_account



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Other, Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, for all my fellow aarahoes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 02:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17993081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: aphelion (n): the point in the orbit of a planet, asteroid, or comet at which it is furthest from the sun





	Aphelion

I.

 

The mirror, at first glance, appeared to be a normal one. Save for its golden frame and the runes carved into said frame, there was nothing that would have alerted you to the fact that there was a Startouched elf trapped inside it.

 You often found Lord Viren in the hidden room where he kept this strange mirror. It held a powerful secret, or some kind of incredible power, he insisted, but you weren’t so sure about that, especially after what seemed like an eternity trying to decrypt its meaning produced no results.

You wandered through the dungeon, music and chatter from some celebratory festival muffled behind the castle’s thick walls, until you stopped in front of a wooden door. You heard nothing from the other side, but knocked anyways. 

“Enter.”

You entered slowly, closing the door behind you, and witnessed what appeared to be the remains of another failed experiment. Viren was seated in front of the mirror, a thick black smog rising from underneath his closed eyes. One hand was on his staff, the other pinched the bridge of his nose.  

“Lord Viren…” you sighed.     

“What is it?” he muttered, hunching over with a deep breath. You briefly considered offering to walk him to a doctor, but the man wouldn’t be caught dead limping alongside a servant looking as if he just had a run in with a particularly angry banther, especially on the day of a royal affair. You opted to simply give him the message you were assigned to and take your leave.   

“Milord,” you began, bowing at your waist out of habit, “King Harrow wishes to have a word.”

Lord Viren muttered something under his breath before turning to you, eyes now opened. “You are familiar with magic, correct?”

Your own eyes widened and you stood with your mouth open for what seemed like an eternity.

“Well?”

You briefly weighed your options. Lie, though Lord Viren would probably see through it, or tell the truth, and risk being roped in to some weird ritual using dark magic. You decided on the latter.

“Um, yes, I suppose so…” you trailed off, scratching the back of your neck nervously. “But how did you…?” You did find it odd that Viren had no qualms with you observing his or Claudia’s spells and such, but not once did you consider it was because he knew you came from a family of dark mages.

“Don’t look so surprised. I myself am a dark mage, in case you forgot, who has been in the service of the king for quite a while. I am acquainted with your uncle,” Viren said, rubbing a hand against his eyes. You winced. Your uncle wasn’t the most upstanding of citizens.

“Well,” the man said, standing up with the help of the staff, “are you capable of following basic instructions?” Viren began walking towards the door, and you quickly nodded, your face heating up.

“Good. I’m assuming you can read. There’s a set of _easily followable_ instructions on the table, a recipe to make another eye-modifying potion.” You gulped. Good to know the potion you were making was going to be used on the King’s adviser. Fantastic, actually.

Lord Viren must have noticed your nervous expression; as he left, he paused at the open door: “If you cannot accurately complete the potion, I’d rather finish it myself than be blinded for the rest of my life. Let me know.”

You winced, and Viren nodded stiffly as he took his leave.

 

 

There you stood, your hands flush against a wooden table that held a weakly flickering wax candle, a number of unfamiliar ingredients, and a sheet of parchment with extremely specific instructions. You glared at the mirror.

 “You better be an endless vault filled to the brim with gold or something,” you muttered, grabbing a bowl from a shelf and tossing what you assumed to be some poor creature’s eyeball into it. You scanned over the instructions and heaved a sigh of relief as you realized you had to do nothing involving magic. You did not want to be in the room with Lord Viren when he learned that you were the sole member of your close family that had very, very little aptitude with magic of any kind. Feeling more confident with the newfound knowledge that you were creating a glorified mixer, you began to measure a few more of the ingredients with a smile on your face. It had been quite a while since you felt useful, and you relished the feeling.

 You poured in some hot goop, removed the eyeball, and measured the correct amount of herbs to place in its stead. You completed the potion relatively quickly, to your own surprise, and grinned as you reached for the final ingredient: part of a flame. It was simple enough to transfer a flame without magic, you thought, gingerly ripping off a piece of the parchment on which the instructions were listed. You cautiously placed the paper close to the dancing flame on the candle, and held your breath as you carefully moved it across to the bowl with all the ingredients.

 “ _Shit!_ ”

 You cursed as the flame wandered off the parchment and licked at your fingers; you dropped it instinctively, though luckily it was close enough to land inside the bowl. Before you could celebrate your success, however, you groaned as you realized the room was now pitch as the night sky: you must have accidentally blown out the candle while cursing, or moved too quickly to grab at your burnt fingers and put out the flame.   

 “Gods, why me,” you muttered while you attempted to feel around for the pestle, accidentally dropping several books in the process, but before you could find it, a soft glow began to illuminate the room. Was there a window somewhere you hadn’t noticed?

 You turned around to search for the window, leaving the pestle behind, and your brows furrowed as you found the source of the milky light: not a window, but the mirror, which, until the moment the flame was extinguished, was a seemingly normal one.

 Your eyes widened as a hand on the other side pressed up against the mirror’s surface.

 The hand was four fingered and the color of the night sky, and you stared at it in awe. An elf? Only elves had four fingers, but why was an elf inside a _mirror_? Why were its arms shining like the night sky? A million questions ran through your head and you started towards the mirror. Your legs felt like lead and adrenaline had long since coursed through your blood, leaving you a shaking mess, but your curiosity was too powerful to overcome. The fog on your side of the mirror cleared up. The rest of the elf whose hand touched the glass began to come into focus.

 You were stunned. On the other side was a cloaked individual with silky hair the color of snow, curled horns, dark skin that glittered like the cosmos, and golden eyes that were at once both intense and curious. Its face was smattered with stars like a human’s with freckles, and its aura was one of pure regality. Its cloak, too, was modeled after the night sky, and you found yourself overwhelmed by the beauty of it all.

 Your hand seemingly moved on its own to match theirs; you wished to be as close to this elf as possible. You couldn’t stop yourself from whispering, “ _You’re beautiful_.” You knew not if they could hear you, if they could even understand what you were saying, but they were unlike anything you had ever come across before and the praise just seemed to fall from your lips.

 “Wow…” you murmured, enraptured by the majestic figure, and one corner of their full lips quirked upwards. Your hand did not move, nor did your eyes, locked onto the other’s. The Startouch elf cocked its head to the side and tapped its ear. You mimicked the motion, a questioning look on your face.  

 “Can you hear me?” you whispered, and it nodded its head, though it tapped its ear again. “I...I can’t hear you?” It smirked. Your face felt hot and you found yourself unable to control your words. “O-oh. Why’s that? Is there anything I can do? What should I…”

 Its smirk softened into a smile, and it held up its hand again, making a motion to wait. You nodded, and it strode out the library. You waited there, face pressed against the glass in awe, taking in all the details of the humble room: a set of colorful flowers, towers of books, a fireplace, a desk, wonderfully bright windows…. Just where was this elf? Was this inside the mirror? Was the mirror a portal to its abode? You decided to ask when it returned, and began to think of other questions to ask as well.  

 Unfortunately, your thoughts were cut extremely short by a faint but clear set of footsteps as well as a staff’s sharp tapping heading down the hall. _Lord Viren._

 Immediately you jumped towards the dark fabric Lord Viren covered the mirror with and adjusted it over the glass. If he found the elf, it was very likely you would not be able to speak with it, something you were unusually eager to do. You made your way to the table with the extinguished candle. You scrambled towards the shelves looking for something, _anything_ to light the room so that Viren would not know the mirror’s secret: there were no matches or flint, because why would a mage need one and you found yourself on the verge of hyperventilating. For once you had done something to be proud of, you had found a potential friend in this strange mirror, and your lack of foresight was going to---

 You threw another cabinet open, sighing in relief at the various assortment of insects trapped in glass jars. Your knowledge of insects wasn’t incredibly broad, but you could identify the dangerous, fire-starting beetle skittering about one particularly thick jar due to an unfortunate accident a few years back.

 The footsteps were getting closer, and you heard Lord Viren call your name.

 “Yes, milord, the potion is almost ready!”

 Cradled against your chest, you uncorked the jar and let the beetle out near the candle.

 “Hurry up,” you hissed as it curiously examined the wax. Short on time, you picked it up, held it near the wick, and startled it by poking its shiny back. You hissed as it bit you and let out a little red spark. A flame, albeit a tiny one, flickered proudly once more.

 You thanked the little creature and shepherded it back into its jar. You gently placed it back in its respective cabinet and returned to the table with your hands behind your back just as Viren entered. He cocked an eyebrow and made his way towards you.

 “You did it,” he said, surprise lacing his voice.

 You nodded awkwardly and glanced at the mirror. The black fabric was draped over it, and the glow that it exuded when the flame went out was no longer present. Lord Viren hummed, and in a flourish removed the fabric from the mirror. You held your breath as he picked up your potion. He swirled it in its container and examined it closely. After a drawn out silence he spoke.

 “Well done.”

 You let out a heavy breath.

“What, was mixing a few ingredients that difficult?” Lord Viren chuckled as he carefully poured a drop in each eye. This one seemed less dangerous than the one he used when you first entered. For one, the whites of his eyes were not engulfed in black.

“More so than you would think,” you continued, “Is it safe to use two different eye drops so close in succession?”

“I appreciate your concern, but this potion is far less potent than the first one. I will be fine.”

Viren blinked a couple of times, took a deep breath, and stared at the mirror with an intensity that unsettled you. He cursed under his breath as he presumably saw nothing out of the ordinary, yet again. He turned to you and you straightened your back.

“Go. I’m closing up for the remainder of the night,” he muttered, throwing the fabric back onto the mirror. You anxiously peered at the candle. If he put it out wouldn’t he notice the mirror’s glow? But Lord Viren was fuming, even you could tell, and you didn’t want to risk making him angrier. You bowed, and made your way back upstairs towards the festivities, all the while silently praying that the mirror appeared to be a normal one even as Viren extinguished the candle. You took in the fresh night air and stared at the stars. You were determined to return and converse with the strange and beautiful elf.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please don't forget to give kudos and/or leave a comment if you enjoyed reading! i love me some validation  
> feel free to drop by with requests & stuff at off-season-goddess.tumblr.com :)


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